Malta 2

WEDNESDAY: THE THREE CITIES & ZURRIEQ

Just across the road from my Airbnb stands an old stone wall, at a convenient height to admire the view but if you look down it’s vertiginous other side you’ll see it forms part of a larger, smooth faced battlement. It’s part of the ancient defences of this wonderful city and as if to confirm this, to my right I can see another wall, that runs at 90 degrees and climbs higher, at the top of which you’ll find some cannons. I’m in what’s known as the ‘battery’. These metal monsters are still fired daily, but not in anger, merely to greet the super cruise liners or as part of other more traditional celebrations. Lucky in my choice of apartment, I can quite easily walk to the bus terminus, town centre and the various ferry terminals. Moreover, the elevation affords some glorious vistas. Way over to my left is the harbour entrance and straight ahead, the Three Cities, delicately interlocking to form pieces of an intricate panoramic jigsaw. It’s in these old fortified towns of Birgu, Isla and Bormla that I am to meet Martin Agius, my good Maltese friend, for today’s excursion. It’s said that their cultural heritage has been kept alive by hundreds of years of preservation and - given how devout this country is - the occasional miracle.

Martin had driven round the eastern end of the bay and after much toing and froing had eventually found somewhere to park. A man of good humour, he waited patiently for my ferry to dock and after smiles and handshakes we took a coffee together.

We walked around a while, Martin wanting to catch people and scenes to continue his Double Exposure project whilst I was looking for whatever felt characterful, including still life. The streets were quiet, at least to my way of thinking, just the occasional tourist or someone Martin knew on some errand or other. Before too long my stomach signalled that it was time to stop and eat so we found somewhere to take lunch.

Faces wiped and napkins set aside after munching on our Maltese Sandwich and fries, we sat back a little and sipped on our colas. Martin enlightened me as to how the value of properties had skyrocketed here. An apartment that would have cost €400 twenty years ago now costs an astronomical €400k!! Many consider the investment in Malta to be a positive thing, ignoring how gentrification makes life difficult for ordinary people. Once more I’m reminded of how, in my own naïve way, I find the charm of the old and distressed buildings far more appealing than glamorous super yachts. I’ll take weathered paintwork and warm honey coloured stone over cold, shining steel any day.

An hour or so later, having done our best to walk off the generous portions of lunch, we traversed back downhill and grabbed an espresso at a small bar before driving to our next destination, the Blue Grotto. I’ve not included a photo because to do justice to this geological wonder you have catch it early morning in the right light so before too long we sidestepped a few other tourists, got back in the car and headed for the small bay at Zurrieq to get a closer view of the sea. Not many people braved the turbulent waters but I did snap one guy bobbing along in a snorkelling mask, waves crashing around his head. Years ago I’d have happily thrown myself in the water and followed suit but not now. I could argue that I’m more sensible these days but the truth is that I’m getting too old for that sort of caper. With many shots of water in my memory card, it was time to find Martin and head past the parking attendant. He didn’t bat an eyelid when I took his shot, he was well used to it after 55 years of working here.

Traffic in Valletta was iffy again so Martin dropped me off near the ferry points and bid me farewell, reminding me that he’d be able to take me out on Friday. I had a look around before heading up the steps to my apartment. I took a couple of shots of a pigeon beaking out from the window of a derelict warehouse and wondered why I’d seen so many pigeons on Malta but not a single seagull.

THURSDAY: MARSAXLOKK

First priority when I got off the bus was to head straight for the Costa, causing a couple of raised eyebrows when I chose to photograph them making my espresso. Dunno why, it was just a ‘shot of coffee’, doh.

Martin agreed this small fishing village might provide some different shots and he was right but the harbour, its waters resplendent with brightly coloured boats reflected in dappling waves, was more suited to tourists, as exemplified by the five young women, fashionably dressed, Prada amongst the brands on show, taking snaps of each other with the picturesque harbour as backdrop. There were some fishermen mending nets but the few shots I took lacked atmosphere and I found the guy plastering a door arch more interesting. After a quick shufty through the market, which contained an awful lot of Christmas stuff, I decided it was time to catch the bus back to the capital.

It was nice to get back to Valletta, not because I disliked Marsaxlokk but because I was starting to feel some familiarity with these surroundings and wanted to look for other photo opportunities. The balmy weather, bars and abundant ice creams gave these towering streets a distinctly relaxed feel. My search for people to photograph was going well, felt good, until one guy took exception to me taking his shot and told me in an aggressive way that I shouldn’t ’sneak up’ on people and take their picture without asking. I’d already offered to delete the shot, explained that asking first often ruined a good candid opportunity and besides people were far more likely to take sneaky shots with a phone than the chunky Nikon combination I wielded. Anyway he just wanted an argument and after initially suggesting it was alright to keep the shot, he insisted I delete. Didn’t want to keep the picture of the miserable so and so after that anyway, lol. Determined not to let this encounter spoil the mood, I mooched around and after a couple more clicks took a shot of an interesting looking guy leaning against the wall of a bar, the steps of the steep alley providing convenient seating. Thinking about the unpleasant reaction from the other guy I showed him the image and we spoke a while. His name was Kerry and his friend Bob, suggested I join them and offered me two cushions to soften the stone’s impact. Apparently Kerry had come here for a change of lifestyle after falling asleep at the wheel during a two and a half hour commute home from work in Dublin. He questioned whether the pressure was worth it and decided to move to Malta, where his daughter and grandson already lived. That was 6 years ago. He earned a fraction of his salary as a high end barber back home but the move made sense, he was happy, relaxed. It was good chatting with them although they had a more accepting view of the gentrification and its concomitant effects, having come from the outside.

Despite the padding my legs and bum were numb when I got up, something they understood well enough. Back in the days when I still liked my grapes trampled and fermented I’d have been tempted to stop awhile longer, nevertheless grateful for their company, I took the steps down through the alleys and strode up the battery’s slope to my apartment.

FRIDAY: QRENDI, MDINA & VALLETTA

Wow, last day already, apart from a day of travel, which doesn’t count. Ever attentive, Martin had asked where I’d like to go. “Somewhere old and less touristy” I’d suggested. A little more ponderous than previous days, Martin drove us to Qrendi and delivered on his promise of a quiet village. We had an espresso in a working man’s club before perusing the streets.

Aside from the incredible sky above one tower and the methodical motions of the lady delivering the post, there wasn’t a lot going on but it was good. Perhaps, because it was so quiet and I was able to soak up the atmosphere, I appreciated the sun kissed walls of limestone all the more, with their profusion of patterns and stains.

“One more stop then you need to get back and pack” Martin said as we settled ourselves back into his car, a bit of The Clash rocking through the speakers as we headed off to the ancient city of Mdina. There were plenty of tourists but a tour of Malta wouldn’t be complete without taking in the former capital and it had a bit more uumph than the Citadel on Gozo, that’s for sure. Just a shame that the cafe we chose cared more about customer turnover than service but that’s ok, Martin was taking me back out with his wife later.

Before going into my apartment I grabbed a shot of one of the massive 20-deck cruise ships heading off to its next destination, where the thousands of passengers will spew out like ants once more to flood the streets before sucked back on board their floating nest and off to repeat the process. It put me in mind of a chap I had heard in Marsaxlokk, proclaiming indignantly that people can’t say they’ve visited a country if all they’ve done is spend a few hours in the port in which they’ve docked.

Packed - as much as I could at least - and showered, Martin pulled up outside early evening and I finally got to meet his lovely wife Therèsa. We drove just outside of Valletta to a restaurant set within the grounds of the Floriana Bocci Club. Erroneously I thought we were still in Valletta but Martin put me straight, explaining the fierce rivalry between the two towns, especially where football was concerned, lol. The setting wasn’t exactly salubrious but omg, the food was to die for. I hadn’t formerly dined out for a long time so it was a treat, not only that but the company was good and the steak, oh the steak!, melted in my mouth. Exquisite.

So that was it, apart from my generous host Martin very kindly seeing me off at the airport, my trip was over. I had to be honest when Therèsa had asked me the night before if I’d come back to Malta, I said “probably not” but clarified that it was on account of having so many other places to visit on my Bucket List, certainly not because I hadn’t enjoyed myself. Autumn in Malta felt like a good summer back home and thinking back to my earlier blog, this ‘trip’ had been so restorative that it was actually more like a holiday after all.

Thanks mate!